


Start Over

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [62]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Reunion, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Jack returns from his mission to find Nick in a bar.
Relationships: Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)/Nick Stokes
Series: Prompt Fics [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Start Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrozenMemories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/gifts).



> from the prompt, "Next time hit me like you mean it."

Jack’s bites down on his lower lip, the wheels in his head spinning rapidly as he tries to determine the best way to surprise his one time lover upon his return to San Diego, after having been on the hunt for a dangerous terrorist for…well, far too long. 

He feels slightly guilty, showing up out of the blue, figurative hat in hand as he had managed to do a little investigating himself to find Nick Stokes haunting a bar, seemingly by himself with an expression on Jack’s face which sent a tremor through Jack’s heart, because he had hoped Nick would find it in himself to move on after their parting.

As he had told Nick then, he wasn’t really sure that he was ever coming back.

He hopes Nick isn’t about to do anything stupid, as he was carrying not just one, but two drinks across the bar–but his small amount of anxiety was put at ease as he found that he was carrying them over to his friends, Sara and Greg, rather than some stranger who might take advantage of the gentle, hurting Texan. 

Jack’s tongue washes over his dry lips, and he quickly checks himself in the reflection of a nearby bottle, sending a wink to the couple who gave him an odd look as he did so. As he walks to the corner, Sara spots him first, and she quickly pats Greg on his chest, alerting him. The pair send daggers through their glares that Jack ignored, instead playfully putting his finger to his lips as he taps Nick on his shoulder…

Nick spins around, not having fully sat down in the booth, his eyes mixed with shock and disdain, his arm that was still holding a beer bottle rises up and swings at Jack’s jaw, effectively shattering the bottle. Its contents dribble down Jack’s chin and into his shirt. 

“Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Nick squeaks while Jack turns away to reset his jaw. His voice drops into a low hiss, simultaneously pushing and pulling Jack as he grabs the sleeve of his leather jacket. “What the _fuck,_ Jack!” 

“Well, hello to you too, handsome,” Jack grumbles. Nick drags him into the single-stall bathroom, locking the door behind them, as he doesn’t want to attract anymore attention to him and his doppelganger. “Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Nick crosses his arms, leans against the wall as Jack cleans up his clothing, washes away the alcohol on his face.

“I am…I think. I don’t know, I guess I’m just a little confused, cause the last time we saw each other, you told me I’d probably never see you again, not to worry, though, and to ‘go ahead, hoss,’” Nick sneers in an exaggerated imitation of his fellow Texan “–and get on with my life without you.”

“I was wrong. But, I thought…I thought I wouldn’t come back alive. But hey, I’m here! In the flesh, and I figured that maybe…we could…catch up?”

Nick scoffs, his mouth hanging open, his tongue dancing in his mouth. He kicks off of the wall, motions to move towards Jack, but instead he begins to pace.

Jack squares up, his back straightened, motionless while Nick continues to swing like a pendulum through the room. He can tell Nick is trying to focus control on his breathing, but he’s not doing a very good job at it. His arms drop, one hand is sent up to his head, stroking through his hair, while the other curls up into a fist. His eyes flicker to Jack with every pass, 

“Hell of a time you picked here, Dalton. The one day I get both Sara _and_ Greg together, a-and G and I were gonna…”

“I see. Well…don’t let me get in the way of that,” Jack clenches his jaw, biting his lip again. He should be happy, that Nick is doing exactly what he wanted for him in the event that he _didn’t_ make it back, but part of him–a minuscule, small, tiny part of him–selfishly hoped that Nick would have waited, at least for some _official_ word about Jack’s untimely demise.

He walks up to Nick, who had since re-crossed his arms, placing a barrier between the mirror telling Jack that he was not open to any affection, and Jack has to push down the urge to just wrap Nick up in his arms anyway.

“Next time, hit me like you mean it,” Jack growls, and turns away without spending another second looking into the watery, chocolate eyes that had brought him here in the first place. 

His hand is on the door to the bathroom knob, when a hand grabs his shoulder, pushes him up against the door. In his peripheral, he sees another hand twist the lock, locking him in with Nick, who then flips Jack over. His arm pushes into Jack’s chest, Jack’s chin just barely rests on the leather of Nick’s jacket. 

Jack almost wants to smile, because he knows, and Nick knows, that he could have easily prevented this. Fought against it. Any other person, or any different history and Nick wouldn’t even be pushed against the wall, he’d be on the floor. 

But Nick’s fuming, his nostrils flared, his face a darker shade of red than when Jack first spotted him in the bar. There’s a fury in his twitching eyes that Jack has never quite seen before, and has to admit that it’s sort of hot. 

Nick must have sensed it, because he suddenly puts a few inches between him and Jack.

“Go on then,” Jack dares him. 

Nick continues to silently fume, Jack can almost smell the steam rising from his head, and after a few moments, his mouth gapes open, but no words come out, just hot, deep, rapid breath, and when Jack becomes bored of this little game, he easily shrugs Nick off of him, and leaves the bathroom.

He avoids eye contact with the far corner, feels the sting of their eyes prick at the developing bruise on his jaw as he charges out of the bar, following an invisible path to the furthest bar he can find, hoping they have a full stock of whiskey. 

He makes it about halfway down the block when a shout forms goosebumps on the back of his neck.

“Jack, wait!” 

Nick’s sprinting towards him, his eyes red, his lower lip trembling. His voice is high and tight, but also retrained, making an effort to keep his words clear and full. 

“Can we start over?” he pleads, holding out one hand to Jack, another towards his chest. “I-I’m sorry, man, I just…It’s been too long a-and I didn’t think you…I though you had…I’m just really happy to see you!” 

Relief washes over Jack, and whatever frozen barrier he had thrown up around his heart in the last five minutes melts away in an instant. He grabs onto the extended hand that Nick had offered, and pulls him into a tight embrace. 


End file.
